


close your eyes and look into the mirror

by isurani



Category: Kamen Rider Decade, Kamen Rider Zi-O
Genre: Bonding, Gen, Post-Canon, and literally nothing else that special was wild, and sougo and geiz are mentioned, inspired by Tsukuyomis haircut in rider time, specifically post-Geiz Majesty, tsukasa and daiki make some cameos, yuusuke is here but he doesnt do much sorry king
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29877273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isurani/pseuds/isurani
Summary: It's a bit like looking at her reflection, Natsumi guesses, if she hadn't seen a war but lived it. And if that's the case, is it too much to push for a happier ending?
Comments: 3
Kudos: 11





	close your eyes and look into the mirror

It wasn’t normal to get customers in Hikari Studio, not really. They didn’t exactly need the money - Yuusuke had taken jobs here and there, but they never stayed in one world for too long and Daiki always ended up stealing something valuable by the end - so Natsumi pretty much associates the chime of the door with the return of one of the boys. It was a welcome sound, even if she’s never very happy with Tsukasa or Daiki for either going off for far longer than he said or straight up disappearing, respectively. 

But she knows where they are, right now. The “World of Zi-O”, otherwise known as a mess of all the worlds combining,  _ again _ \- or that was the theory, anyway. So it would be a while.

Tsukasa had been gone for a while now already, actually, even leaving a note that he was going to check out whatever “Zi-O” was. Daiki had left recently, though without a note - but Natsumi and Yuusuke both know what his agenda is. It’s tiring sometimes, but Natsumi knows them both well enough at this point to know they’d be okay.

And if they weren’t,  _ that  _ would be a problem, because anything strong enough to hurt either of them was a threat they would all need to face. After she bandages them up and scolds them for being stupid enough to get themselves injured.

The chime ringing is enough to get Natsumi to look up from the coffee she was having, though. It’s more likely to be Yuusuke back from shopping than anything, but there’s always that level of unpredictability with Tsukasa.

“Tsukasa Kadoya!” It’s an unfamiliar voice that shouts as the sound of footsteps on hardwood reverberate faster, like whoever entered was running. “Where -”

The door to their room - it’s the photo room, actually, but it’s not wrong to think of it as “their room” now, as it has been for years. Hikari Studio is more like a home than a studio, anyway - opens. A girl stands on the other side.

For a moment, Natsumi looks at her long, dark hair and white dress, and wonders if she’s looking at the past version of herself.

Then the girl pulls out some sort of circular gun, pointed straight at her, and the illusion is broken as quickly as it appeared. 

“Do you know Tsukasa Kadoya?” comes the question, and Natsumi’s almost annoyed that Tsukasa hasn’t mentioned her to whoever he’s been hanging out with. Then again, “Tsukasa” and “hanging out” don’t exactly mesh, so maybe she should be glad. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know why you’d think I know where Tsukasa is,” Natsumi mumbles, returning back to her coffee. The girl’s unlikely to shoot her, the gun seeming like more of a reflex than anything, and she’s had worse. She wants the coffee.

“...but you  _ know _ him.” It’s less of a question and more of a statement, but Natsumi nods anyway.

“You can sit down, you know,” she offers, gesturing at the couch, and the girl looks at her like she’s just said something absurd. “You want to talk, right?”

The girl nods, but doesn’t move for a moment. Her eyes are still flicking left and right, like she’s looking for a way out, and Natsumi feels a little bad for her. Something’s definitely left her paranoid.

Gingerly, she takes a seat on the couch, and Natsumi puts her cup back down.

“So. You’re looking for Tsukasa?” The girl seems to have put a solid foot between Natsumi and her, but she nods.

“He showed me something. We talked. And he said...he may destroy the world.” The girl stares at her hands. “I had to find the others, but he was gone before I came back.”

Ah. That would certainly make things a little more difficult. Tsukasa wasn’t exactly good at explaining himself, either.

“I wanted to change the past,” the girl continues. “Not destroy it.”

“The past?” It’s not too surprising, with how she’s dressed in a sort of ethereal white dress and cape, and the strange gun she had, but  _ time _ distortion is still not something Natsumi deals with often. “So you’re from the future.”

The girl looks up at her, as if she’s surprised Natsumi takes it at face value.

“...2058,” she says. “I’m from a future where a demon king rules the world, and we came back to stop that from happening.”

Sounds about right. Natsumi nods again, and the girl blinks. 

“You’re looking at me like I shouldn’t believe you,” Natsumi sighs. “Listen, I’ve seen more outlandish stuff before.” Passing through tens of hundreds of worlds over the years does that. She may not have much experience with time travel, but it’s still not something that she’s completely unfamiliar with.

The girl relaxes a tiny bit, enough that Natsumi wouldn’t have noticed it if she wasn’t used to the boys acting similarly. Natsumi gives her what’s hopefully a more comforting smile.

“Look. Tell me what’s going on, okay? I promise, it’s not like I won’t believe you.” The girl still seems unsure, but her grip on the circular gun loosens, and there’s a slight nod.

So the girl talks, and Natsumi listens. She’s not like Tsukasa, getting the gist of it within a few moments, but she likes the details anyway.

The girl’s name is Tsukuyomi. Her future is practically an apocalyptic one, where Oma Zi-O rules over all - and Natsumi notes, a little grimly, that it’s most likely the same “Zi-O” that Tsukasa set out to find. Tsukuyomi’s hesitant to talk about the future itself, only that she was found without any memories (and if Natsumi winces at that, Tsukuyomi doesn’t seem to notice), and that she was taken into a resistance, fighting to survive. She doesn’t use the word “friend”, talking about her fellow resistance members, but there’s still a fondness in her eyes.

“Geiz” is the only one she names, someone stubborn and distrusting, but someone honest at heart. 

“...it was his idea to go back to the past,” Tsukuyomi confides, a faraway look on her face. “I didn’t think it was a good idea. But...after the last attack on Oma Zi-O...we didn’t have much of a choice. We had watched so many of our companions die...there wasn’t going to be anything left if we didn’t act. So he stole a blank ridewatch and two of Oma Zi-O’s own, and then we stole two of the Time Mazines. And we ran into the past.”

“And you found Zi-O,” Natsumi guesses. Tsukuyomi shakes her head, however.

“Not...the one we were looking for, I think.”

Tsukuyomi continues, with a new name in the story - “Sougo”, the Zi-O that was supposed to end the world. And he’s strange, she says, with dreams of being a king and not seeming to understand how horrific being a tyrant would be, and there are parts of him that worry her - he’s an excellent manipulator, an efficient fighter, and doesn’t seem to understand people’s feelings. He’s  _ powerful _ , and scarily so. Even still, Tsukuyomi promises, she doesn’t ever want to follow Geiz’s original wish of wanting to kill him.

“He’s kind, and naive, and trusting. Hopelessly optimistic,” she says with a sigh. “Which makes the parts that worry me even worse, because you don’t see them until it’s too late. I...don’t know if it’s true, if he’ll really become the demon king. I don’t want him to.”

“You became friends,” Natsumi says, because the word “friend” isn’t dangerous. Tsukuyomi looks at her warily.

“Are you friends with Tsukasa Kadoya?” she asks, like it’s a trap. And while “friend” is also a very, very loose term for what they are, what  _ any _ of them are at this point, when she’s killed him and also brought him back by remembering him, it works.

“Of course.” Tsukuyomi seems taken aback at that, staring at her watch-phone-gun once more.

“...people don’t get  _ scared _ of their friends. I said I didn’t want to kill him, but...I almost tried,” she murmurs. “He got so much stronger, enough that he could change time itself. And I panicked. I hadn’t been so scared in months, but all of a sudden, it was like we were back in 2058, fighting to survive.”

There’s not a good answer to say to that. The coffee’s kind of cold at this point, but Natsumi takes another sip anyway, trying to let Tsukuyomi work through it herself.

“It’s...fine,” Tsukuyomi decides. “That’s not the point. The point is that the whole idea, the whole plan is to stop him from becoming the demon king we know. Whether that’s the “kindest king” idea he has, or finding out who’s really behind all this. So that...everyone can have a better life. It’s supposed to make things better for everyone. Destroying this world won’t do that.”

“Tsukasa doesn’t want to do that.” The words slip out before Natsumi can really think about it, because it’s true. Still, Tsukuyomi’s guard seems to immediately go back up, her whole body tensing, and Natsumi winces a little. Okay. Need to add more to that. “I know he said so, but it’s a last resort. He doesn’t  _ like _ being the Destroyer.”

“And that’s supposed to make it better?” The words aren’t harsh, but they’re cold. “He’s not on our side.”

The silence settles, heavy over the two of them. Natsumi would really appreciate Yuusuke coming back around now - he was always the idealistic one, and he’d have the words she can’t find at the moment - but the door stays closed. Damn.

“That’s why you wanted to talk to him, isn’t it? To get him on your side.” It’s hard to pick the words carefully - there’s no way Tsukuyomi could really understand her feelings for Tsukasa, something complicated yet simple. It’s layers on layers of trust and yet knowing each other's weaknesses that intertwine throughout the years and the worlds, of coming out of one war and then watching for the next one. She needs to put it in simple terms. 

“He’s hard to understand. And he seems cold, and detached, and - and kind of an asshole,” Natsumi admits, “but. Tsukasa’s not a villain. He never wants to be. Just...hold on, okay? He’s not your enemy.”

“He attacked us before.” Tsukuyomi glares. “What makes you so sure he’s not our enemy?”

“If Tsukasa’s an enemy, I’ll go down there and stop him myself,” Natsumi says.

That seems to mean something to her. Tsukuyomi looks away, the accusatory edge to her eyes softening.

“I don’t want to be paranoid.” The words are quiet. “But there’s nothing I can do. I want to protect them.”

That’s a feeling Natsumi understands. Even with the Kivala armor that she’s grown used to wielding, that first year where there was nothing to do but watch and support was the hardest. She never minded being the place to come back to, but the fear that they wouldn’t come back, and there was nothing she could do - that hurt.

Natsumi moves from the seat at the table to the couch, placing her hands over Tsukuyomi’s own with a light squeeze - they’re more calloused than she expected. For as much as they are similar, their stories are not the same, and this girl lived the only life she can remember in a war while Natsumi simply witnessed it.

Still, the similarities can be comforting, and Natsumi wants to prove that. What would she say to a younger her, still unsure of the point of journeying, still scared of the fate of the Rider War?

“You’re stronger than you think. No matter what, even if fate seems to be against you, the very fact that you’re there is changing it.”  _ Keep your friends close. I don’t want you to be alone,  _ she wants to say, but keeps that to herself. “I trust you to make the future you choose to create.”

There’s a renewed determination in Tsukuyomi’s eyes as she nods.

“I’ll see it through,” Tsukuyomi says in return.

It’s only after Tsukuyomi’s gone that Natsumi realizes that she may never see Tsukuyomi again. That’s always something with these world-ending scenarios - people don’t always make it out safe.

Still, she holds that pledge close. And maybe, once Tsukasa and Daiki come back, once it’s all over, the two of them will talk again.

* * *

Daiki gives them a heads up when the world’s about to end, so that’s nice. 

Still, it’s not a fantastic moment when Natsumi realizes Tsukuyomi didn’t come to them, they came to  _ her _ , the Hikari Studio being dragged into the amalgamation that is the World of Zi-O without them even noticing. Which means they’re in it as it starts to break down, with only the quickest of warnings before there’s monsters from eighteen worlds at their door.

Yuusuke jumps into helping because of course he does, even if the people of this world may not survive its destruction. Natsumi would be more worried if he didn’t, at this point.

With Kivala’s own timely appearance, Natsumi lets the armor form around her and begins to fend off the monsters, even if different icons from the different worlds are forming and breaking around her as she moves.

It reminds her of a day a long, long time ago, and of a world that no longer exists, torn apart in a moment.

She wonders if it would have been better for it to stay frozen, moments before destruction. There’s no point second-guessing things she had no control in, though. Natsumi has power  _ now _ , power born to kill destroyers and protect those she cares about, which is all she could have ever asked for.

Yuusuke, clad in Rising Ultimate’s black-and-gold armor, rushes past her. The look they share is only moments, and hidden behind helmets, but it’s enough. They’re watching each other's backs. She’s sure Tsukasa and Daiki are doing the same, even if the method is a little different.

Not for the first time, she thinks about Tsukuyomi again, and Natsumi wonders if she’s protecting those she cares about as well.

* * *

Natsumi never actually sees Zi-O himself, but she feels him - the rush of something dark engulfing the amalgamation world, threatening to tear it apart in a different way than Tsukasa’s power.

Yuusuke starts, like he’s about to run off, but Natsumi puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. There’s nothing they can do at this point but watch, and maybe it’s best to stay observers.

“Do you think they’re…” Yuusuke trails off as the Kuuga armor fades. “They’re kids, aren’t they? Don’t they deserve a happy ending?”

“I think everyone deserves a happy ending,” Natsumi says, even as the feeling of Oma Zi-O permeates every fiber of her. It’s a feeling like a fight or flight instinct, making her body want to  _ run _ , but she’s had worse. She can see this through, like Tsukuyomi said she wanted to.

“I want them to be okay.” Yuusuke’s so earnest about it, but Natsumi wants the same. 

“They deserve a home of their own,” Natsumi murmurs. “Not this.”

Destroying a world isn’t a bad thing, not always. Sometimes, it’s just a gateway to new creation, something better to be born in its place. Sometimes, it’s a blink and you miss it sort of thing, where everyone returns none the wiser. Sometimes, it’s an alternate world in its place, with people once called a team never crossing paths.

There’s many possibilities that start as the world lights up gold, dissolving. It’s not Tsukasa’s power, and oddly, that puts Natsumi a little more at ease.

It’s the kids’ decision, then. That’s a little better.

The end of the world is many things, but Natsumi doesn’t like to call it beautiful. It’s more bittersweet, every timeline igniting to fuel the destruction and recreation of something that can’t be saved.

It’s never salvation, it’s desperation.

Yuusuke stares at it in awe, however, and Natsumi watches as well. She doesn’t mind being an observer through worlds. If there’s someone to watch a world end, after all, then that means it existed in the first place.

* * *

Tsukasa and Daiki walk through the world destroying itself, and Natsumi watches them come home. 

“It’s over, then?” she asks.

“Our journey here is done, Natsumikan,” comes the answer.

She opens the door to the studio, but hesitates for a moment. Somehow, it still feels unfinished.

She can only hope the kids will be in their new world and be happy. Enough that they can use the word “friend”, instead of the fighting relationships they’re set in.

But, for now...

“Time to go home.”

* * *

It’s a few months later when they stop in the World of Zi-O next.

Daiki had stopped here before, during one of his vanishing stints, but apparently that had been just as hectic as before. So, at the insistence of Natsumi, they’re taking a week for a  _ vacation _ in Zi-O’s world, the least likely world to have a second apocalypse. This time, Tsukasa had said something about going for dinner at a place that had caught his eye in the midst of one of the climatic fights.

So it was just Yuusuke and Natsumi again, though this time it was just for a day. The next plan is to go somewhere with all of them - it’s Yuusuke’s choice, and he wants to go to the amusement park.

Natsumi, on the other hand, is thinking about going out for the day as well, though it’s just to get her hair done or something. Time never works quite the right way when you’re an existence throughout many worlds, some of which aren’t even on the same spectrum when it comes to time, so it’s nice to change up a look every now and again to feel like something’s happening. Yuusuke hasn’t been wearing his varsity jackets as much anymore, and Natsumi’s been stealing them more often. Daiki managed to slip off and dye his hair blond at some point, which isn’t an unwelcome change but certainly took some getting used to. Tsukasa always looks the same, though he switched from turtlenecks to some sort of magenta polo shirt.

Aside from wearing more flannel and Yuusuke’s big jackets, Natsumi hasn’t changed much herself. She could cut her hair short, or something, and that might be a nice change. Something like that.

Things to think about. 

It’s a shock when the door opens with a small chime - it’s definitely not Tsukasa and Daiki, they just left not even an hour ago, and Yuusuke’s in the room with Natsumi.

“Hello…?”

It’s more of a shock that Natsumi recognizes the voice. 

She meets Tsukuyomi halfway, though she looks lost, like she expected someone else. She doesn’t look the same as she did before, either, dressed in a surprisingly normal school uniform complete with backpack.

“Sorry, I must have gotten the address mixed up,” Tsukuyomi says, before Natsumi can ask anything. “I thought there was a hairdressers here...I swear there was, last I checked…”

There’s no recognition in her eyes, and it somehow stings worse than it should. 

For all intents and purposes, it makes  _ sense _ . Daiki had already spoken offhandedly about the reset, how the World of Zi-O was in an alternate 2018, how the whole reality had shifted. Of course memories wouldn’t have stayed, especially not meaningless ones that hadn’t really belonged to that world in the first place.

“It’s okay,” Natsumi finds herself saying. “What are you looking for?”

It’s a weird thing to say, actually, and she knows it. There’s almost a guilt in her, too - is it really so smart to be interacting with the kids again? If they won a normal life, no matter what the cost, it’s not good to interfere with that.

Still, a voice in her head says, it’s just one moment. A final check-up, or something like that.

Tsukuyomi looks at her, surprised.

“Um,” comes the pause, but she doesn’t move to leave. “I was thinking about getting my hair cut. Super short. Since we’re graduating this year, I wanted to do something cool.”

Huh. Natsumi guesses they both want a change.

“I can do that,” Natsumi decides. 

There’s some small protests from Tsukuyomi as Natsumi takes her hand and leads her into the main room, sitting her down on a chair. There’s a small protest from  _ Yuusuke _ as he sees her, and she shushes him.

“Listen,” Natsumi says. “I feel like doing this.”

Yuusuke doesn’t argue with that, and he helps her grab a tablecloth to use as a cover for Tsukuyomi, as well as set up a mirror. Natsumi grabs scissors of her own, along with a brush and anything else that would probably help.

With how many worlds they’ve traveled to, it’s likely Tsukasa had done this at some point. And if he could do it, so could she. At least, that was the reasoning she was going with, and it couldn’t really be that hard.

It takes her about five minutes to realize that she doesn’t actually know what she’s doing. But, surprisingly, Tsukuyomi isn’t complaining, just staring in the mirror as Natsumi cuts a little too shakily, a little too uneven, and doesn’t say a word.

“Are you okay?” comes the question, even before Natsumi realizes she said anything at all.

Tsukuyomi doesn’t shake her head, or anything, and that’s probably good, because that would mess up Natsumi’s focus even more. Instead, she just...kinda sighs.

“...nothing much,” she says, but that’s a placating kind of response, with a tone to her voice that Natsumi’s heard too much to take at face value. “This just feels…”

Natsumi doesn’t say “weird”, because even though it definitely  _ is _ for Tsukuyomi, it’s worse saying that outloud, right?

“Familiar,” Tsukuyomi goes with, and it’s all Natsumi can do to not drop the scissors. 

“And why’s that?” The words come out a little strained, but better than expected. Natsumi’s always taken a little bit of pride in being calm under pressure. It rubs off on you when you hang around someone like Tsukasa, she guesses. “Have your friends done this before?”

“It’s like something my brother would do,” Tsukuyomi says vacantly. “But he wouldn’t.”

“You have a brother?”

Tsukuyomi pauses for an awfully long time. “No, I don’t.”

There’s no real way to respond to that, and Natsumi’s wondering if Hikari Studio is a good place for Tsukuyomi to be at all. Something about alternate universes converging in one place, and all that - the World of Zi-O is so fragile in the first place, even a few months after the apocalypse.

“Sougo likes to braid my hair,” Tsukuyomi continues instead, even after the silence had stretched on and on. “Though I guess he won’t be able to, after this.”

Sougo. That’s a repeated name from the time before, Natsumi realizes, the boy who wanted to be king but still wasn’t given the name “friend”.

“I think he’ll like the new look too,” Natsumi says, hoping she doesn’t let on that she knows a little more than she should.

She  _ hates _ time travel, actually. It makes everything so much more confusing.

“Sougo likes most things,” Tsukuyomi replies. “He’s too…”

“Kind?” Natsumi offers. The other words she remembers, “naive” and “trusting”, seem a little too worrying.

“Yeah,” Tsukuyomi responds. “He’s someone who kinda forces his way into being friends with you, and you don’t even know it until it’s too late.”

It matches up, so Natsumi doesn’t think it’s too much when she says “So, you two are friends?”

Tsukuyomi nods, and Natsumi has to keep her hand very still to try and not cut in a completely different direction.

“Sougo says we’re his retainers, because he likes to get all weird and daydream about everything, but yeah. He’s our friend.”

The word “our” is a good sign, and Natsumi’s kind of carried away by the happy ending, so before she can think about the words, she follows up with

“I’m glad you three are getting along.”

Tsukuyomi goes very still, very quickly. It’s not the same kind of tense the Tsukuyomi dressed in white and grasping a gun was, that kind of life-or-death stiffening, but it’s an echo of it. A reflection, bounced back across time.

“I,” and Tsukuyomi’s words are chosen very carefully, a quiet kind of danger that seemed much more fitting coming from the original, “didn’t mention anyone else to you. Did I?”

Natsumi doesn’t respond with the truth, because that would probably be a bad idea.

“I’ve seen you three pass by here before,” she lies instead, and she’d be surprised at how easy it was if she hadn’t been traveling with Tsukasa and Daiki for years. Yuusuke’s probably looking at her with disappointment, but turning around to look would also be a bit too suspicious. “That’s why I asked in the first place.”

“That’s funny.” Tsukuyomi’s quiet voice does not lose any of it’s tension, each word tightly wound. “Because I could have sworn that up until yesterday, there was a  _ real _ hair salon here.”

“This one’s free, isn’t it?” Natsumi responds, but Tsukuyomi is glaring into the mirror.

“This building just - looks similar!” Yuusuke finally decides to join the conversation, instead of cleaning up like he was attempting to do - but his lying is flimsy to begin with, and he doesn’t like doing it at all. Natsumi tries not to flinch. “That’s all.”

“Shouldn’t it be the same building?” Yuusuke actually does flinch at Tsukuyomi’s rebuttal. 

“Well, yeah, but, um, we painted, and all that, so -”

Tsukuyomi doesn’t respond as Yuusuke trails off, staying still and quiet. Natsumi brushes through her hair, now, finished with cutting, and sighs.

“We’re not your enemy,” she says, because that seems to be what will defuse Tsukuyomi’s ghost instincts from a world far gone.

“So what, then?” The words are monotone, but they’re losing some of their bite. “Are you like that other rider? Kaitou?”

Yuusuke laughs, though it’s more exasperated than anything. Natsumi feels the same - of course that’s what his stop entailed. 

“Daiki’s…” and Tsukuyomi raises an eyebrow, so Natsumi stops that sentence there and just shakes her head. “It’s a check-up visit. Nothing more than that.”

Tsukuyomi’s quiet, and Natsumi places down the brush as she stands up, the chair pushed to a side. When they’re not reflected back at her through a mirror, Natsumi suddenly notices that her eyes aren’t nearly as cold as she thought. No, they’re just a little lost.

“Am I supposed to understand?” she asks.

Natsumi can only shake her head.

Yuusuke comes up next to her, and hesitates before placing a tentative hand on Tsukuyomi’s shoulder, if only for a moment. She stiffens, but doesn’t move away, and that phantom fear seems to pass through.

“You know something,” Tsukuyomi says. “Geiz knows something. And no one is telling me anything.”

“Do you want to know?” Natsumi replies, and frowns at how the words sound. “Do you think it would be good if you know?”

“Either way, you’re not going to tell me,” is Tsukuyomi’s response.

It should be a standoff, but it’s more like a ceasefire, Tsukuyomi’s eyes downcast. The remnants of the girl Natsumi remembers from that one day in the midst of it all are scattered on the floor, and a new girl with choppy, bobbed hair and eyes that aren’t haunted but more conflicted stands before her.

Would she be happier to remember who she was…?

There’s a picture of Tsukuyomi, in the basket of Tsukasa’s shitty photos. They don’t throw them out, so it’s been sitting there for months.

It’s of her and him, actually. The effect had captured Tsukasa next to Tsukuyomi, staring out onto a ravaged city.

“It doesn’t matter,” Natsumi hears herself say.

Tsukuyomi’s eyes dart up.

“It doesn’t matter what it is. If - if they’re hiding something from you, if we know something you don’t, if there’s something about you that you don’t know - some other version of you that people are thinking about...it doesn’t matter. Because that isn’t  _ this  _ you. Because the you standing right here, right now, means something on her own. The life you’re living, the choices you’ve made, they belong to you and no one else. No other you would ever live in quite the same way. And that’s the same for you, and all your friends.”

It’s not quite a reflection of her standing there, and it’s not quite a reflection of Tsukasa, either. And Tsukuyomi doesn’t move, or smile, like it makes sense, but she slowly lowers a hand into her skirt pocket and squeezes something there.

“You’re not held by any fate,” and she takes Tsukuyomi’s other hand in both of her own. “So it doesn’t matter what past one you had. You choose where to go from here. If that’s finding out the past, so be it, but I believe that you can start your own future right here. That you already have.”

Tsukuyomi’s hand is warm in Natsumi’s own.

“This...is familiar too,” Tsukuyomi says, and for a moment, Natsumi’s words feel empty,

but she shakes her head, and takes her hand out of Natsumi’s.

“...I didn’t ask your name,” she says instead.

Natsumi smiles a little, at that.

“Neither did I,” she replies.

“Natsumi Hikari.”

“Alpina Tsukuyomi.”

and they’re the only ones.

* * *

Yuusuke takes a picture with the studio camera, before Tsukuyomi leaves.

One of her alone, to celebrate the new haircut.

And one, at Tsukuyomi’s request, of her and Natsumi.

The photos come out perfectly, as they should,

but Natsumi puts the second one next to Tsukasa’s picture. 

They fit nicely.

**Author's Note:**

> i think the zi-o kids should keep their high school au its very nice for them and i like it a lot  
> i dont know, how to write, decade or zi-o. theres like a science to them that several of the gay people on this ao3 dot com have figured out but i have not...so i hope this suffices..........  
> anyway natsumi wasnt in rider time and im very upset over this
> 
> a lot of this was me just going man zi-o was fucked up . man post-content zi-o also fucked up.  
> zi-o was good by the way.


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